Feathery Friends
by Aquade
Summary: This was one of his solo missions (he never learned from the last one to "Never Swim Alone" but instead was filled with certitude that he could handle anything, except mini golf). However, this time, he did tell his team where he was. "Skipper's Log: I finally have enough time to carry out Operation: Feathery Friends."
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I know it's past Thanksgiving, and I'm kinda breaking the unwritten rule by posting this; but then, RULES WERE MEANT TO BE BROKEN! Here you go. I'll post the other chapters later.**

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><p>It was high noon, and the penguins had just finished their lunch of fish. It was a Saturday, and each of them was doing their own thing. The rest of the zoo were also relaxing and enjoying their day.<p>

Kowalski was in the lab working on his latest invention – the Salt Shaker, which made snow, not salt, much to the chagrin of Skipper who had prophesized that it was going to explode soon. Rico was outside with his water scooter and doll. Private was watching the Lunacorns. Skipper was hiding in a tree spying on the White House.

This was one of his solo missions (he never learned from the last one to "Never Swim Alone" but instead was filled with certitude that he could handle anything, except mini golf). However, this time, he did tell his team where he was. "Skipper's Log: I finally have enough time to carry out Operation: Feathery Friends."

Skipper hopped over to another tree closer to his target. "For all too long, our cousins the turkeys have been slaughtered during Thanksgiving. What I don't understand is why the humans don't eat fish like we do?"

He settled down to wait. "Ten years ago, my third cousin five times removed came to me for help to save him and his friends. I was just a young headstrong penguin at that time with an opportunity for a promotion. I rejected him, and he and his friends perished from my foolish decision. I know the boys think of me as one who can do no wrong, especially young Private, but I do wrong. Well, never again will others perish for me."

The President came out and cameras began flashing. "The eagle is out. Time to roll," declared Skipper. "Operation: Feathery Friends begins now."

It was too risky for Skipper to rush in and grab the President. Instead, he considered whether to shoot him with a blowgun. He rejected it and took out his binoculars. Mr. President began speaking. "This year, like every year, a turkey will be chosen."

"Yeah, and every turkey else is going to die," said Skipper.

His radio began beeping. "Great Barrier Reef! What is going on?" yelled Skipper, almost falling for the tree branch.

He looked down at his notification. 'Private's Birthday Tomorrow,' it read. 'Remember to bring him a present!"

Skipper looked back at the President. "I can watch it over on the telly," he said, using Private's word for the T.V.

He executed a smooth back flip and landed on the ground. Then, he began sliding to the nearest gift shop. Skipper looked around for something or someone that would get him across the road. He found his ride.

The penguin commander slid under the ice-cream cart and latched on. The cart began moving across the street. At his stop, Skipper jumped off and hid behind a trash can. He looked up at the shop. It was clear. The penguin slid in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Chapter Two! Here you go!**

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><p>"Happy Birthday, Private!" chorused Kowalski and Rico.<p>

"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Private gleefully, his face all lit up.

The two older penguins set the cake down on their stone table. "Ready to blow out the candles, Private?" asked Kowalski, lighting them up.

"Not until Skipper gets here," replied the young penguin stubbornly.

Kowalski and Rico exchanged a glance. They both knew that Skipper would never miss their birthdays (although he had stated that it was not a very important celebration), especially his most naïve and youngest soldier, but sometimes, he could be late. Once, he arrived at 11 P.M., started and annoyed but happy to see Private waiting for him.

"Why don't you blow them out before they all burn down, and we'll wait for Skipper before we eat the cake?" suggested Kowalski.

"Uh, huh," agreed Rico, nodding vigorously.

Private glared at them. Kowalski managed a weak chuckle. "Or not."

"We're waiting for Skipper," repeated Private firmly.

"We're waiting for Skipper," said the other penguins.

The hatch opened. The penguins looked up, expecting to see Marlene. Instead, Skipper performed a perfect midair flip and presented Private with a little gift. "Good thing you won't have to wait long this time," said Skipper with a smirk.

He was as well aware as the rest of them about his near miss birthday appearances. "Skipper!" Private was grinning. "You made it!"

"I sure did, didn't I?" answered the older penguin, winking at his soldiers. "Happy Birthday, young Private."

Private smiled at his friends. "Thank you!"

He turned back to the cake. "Want some? I think it's chocolate so I guess it wasn't homemade."

Kowalski was wounded. "We make good cakes! Right, Rico?"

Rico shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah?"

"Really, Kowalski? Think about the last cake you made?" Skipper raised a non-existent brow.

"Let's see, the last cake I made was on 'King Julien Day,'" said Kowalski, making quotes around the last part.

They all looked at him. Kowalski hung his head. "Point taken."

Private blew out the candles. "Let's not fight. Anyone want some cake?"

The penguins smiled and nodded. Private began cutting the cake. "So, Skipper, if you don't mind me asking, how was your mission?"

"It was un-informative," replied Skipper, curtly.

Kowalski took a risk. "Is it un-classified now?"

"As a matter of fact, it is, but I'll wait until tomorrow to tell you," said Skipper, surprising his team.

Not knowing what to say, they kept silent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter! I do realize that these are short, so I'll try to post new ones quickly.**

**Turk: Am I in here?**

**Me: No! Not yet! Although you will be mentioned in the next chapter.**

**Turk: Ah, gracias.**

**Me: Great. Now you just gave the readers a spoiler. Thank you.**

**Turk: You're welcome.**

**Me: How did you get in here anyway?**

**Turk: Uhh...Bye! *dashes out of the room***

**Me: Wait! I'm not finished with you!**

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><p>Monday<p>

The three penguins lined up in front of their leader. "Mission, sir?" asked Kowalski, saluting.

"Right," replied his commander. "Years ago, I received a call of help from our cousins the turkeys."

"The turkeys are our cousins?" repeated Private.

"Yes."

Private's face grew worried. "So our cousins are being butchered as we speak?"

Rico's face, on the other hand, was disturbingly dreamy. Ignoring the look on Rico's face, Skipper continued. "Like a fool, I turned it down."

"Isn't it breaking the penguin code?" asked Kowalski.

Skipper glared at him. "Done here?"

"Affirmative."

"As I was saying," said Skipper, looking at them each in turn. "The mission was to help the turkeys from their annual massacre."

The penguins' faces grew solemn. "So, we're going to help them?" ventured Private.

"Affirmative," replied Skipper. "No American turkey is going to die this year."

He handed out files to each of them. "This is the plan. You have precisely twenty-four hours to know and memorize everything."

"Everything?" repeated Rico in his way.

"Everything," confirmed Skipper.

He walked toward the ladder. "I suggest you get started on it right away." With that, he was gone.

The penguins looked at each other then at the stack of filed each of them was holding. Sighing, Private carried his files to the table. "We'd better get on it."

Kowalski followed. "I should invent something that allows you to put things into your brain without memorizing it," he mumbled, sitting down beside Private.

Rico looked at the files one more time before heading to his bunk.

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><p><strong>Turk: Whew! I got away from that nasty writer.<strong>

**Me: I'm right here, you know.**

**Turk: Got to go!**

**Me: Get back here!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Gobber: Hello, Readers.**

**Me: Gobber! How did you get in!**

**Gobber: You let me in through your front door, remember?**

**Me: Oh, yeah. Why are you here anyway?**

**Gobber: Father says that you are mad at him so he sent me to ask you if we're in this chapter.**

**Me: You'll be in the next, next one, okay?**

**Gobber: All right.**

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><p>0600 hours Tuesday<p>

Skipper blew the horn. "Up and at 'em, boys!" he yelled.

One by one, his unit got up and lined up in front of him. He walked over to his rookie. "Private! What's the name of our intel?"

"Turk, sir!" replied Private.

Skipper nodded and walked over to Kowalski. "Kowalski! What's his origin?"

"His ancestors were from Turkey!" Kowalski stood rigid. "Like all the turkeys," he added under his breath.

It was Rico's turn. "What are we doing, soldier?" Skipper asked.

Rico said something that was incoherent to Kowalski and Private, but apparently, Skipper understood him. "Not bad, soldier."

He walked in front of his team. "When are we moving out?"

"0630 hours, sir!" they answered.

Skipper was impressed. "Very good. You all know what this means."

"Snow cones," whispered Kowalski. "Please say it."

"Snow cones," declared Skipper. "Go satisfy your thirst for pleasure."

"Yay!"

The team went topside to the park. Skipper walked over to the coffee machine and began brewing himself a cup. "Nothing like a cup of coffee in the morning," he declared.

The hatch opened, and Marlene popped in, almost causing Skipper to spill his coffee. "Marlene! Would you ever learn how to knock?" said Skipper crossly.

The otter apologized. " Sorry. I was wondering, do you have any spare nails? I'm hanging up more pictures."

"It's in the closet," said Skipper, pointing at their untidy, dangerous storage room.

Marlene peeked in. "Uhh, you know, never mind."

With that, she hurried out of the HQ. Skipper shrugged and continued sipping his coffee. 'Mammals,' he thought. 'They can never make up their minds.'

Minutes later, his team returned from their little expedition. Skipper saw them. "All right, men. It's go time. Kowalski! How's our cover?"

Kowalski switched on the holograph. "Ready, sir," he reported. "I've installed a function that only allows us to switch it off!"

"Rico! Private! How's our security measure?"

"Good to go, Skipper!" said Private.

"Saddle up, boys, we're in for a long ride," said Skipper, climbing into the car.

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><p><strong>Gobber: Do we get snowcones too?<strong>

**Me: No! You live in a forest! Where are you going to get snowcones?!**

**Gobber: Purchase a snowcone making machine online and have them deliver it here.**

**Me: You know what? That's not a bad idea.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Gobber: Hey! You lied! We're in this chapter.**

**Me: Sorry, I lost count. If it makes you feel better, I really thought so too.**

**Gobber: All right, I forgive you. But aren't you forgetting something?**

**Me: What? Oh yeah! The disclaimer. Sorry I didn't post it before. This goes for future and past chapters. Anybody want to do the honors?**

**Turk: I'll do it if you don't kill me.**

**Me: Fine.**

**Turk: The characters from the Penguins of Madagascar are owned by Dreamworks/Nick. At least, I still think they are. Not sure what is happening anymore. This author only owns this story and his/her OCs.**

**Me: Not bad. You did a good job.**

**Turk: Of course!**

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><p>The car stopped right outside of a forest. "Um, Skipper? Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Private, staring at the vast unknown.<p>

"Don't worry," said Skipper. "They'll be here."

As if on cue, two turkeys came out of the jungle. "Skipper! Me amigo!" said the taller turkey.

"Hello, Turk," replied Skipper evenly.

Turk ushered the smaller turkey forward. "This is me son, Gobber."

Gobber raised a hand. "Hello."

Turk laughed. "Gobber here is about the same as that young 'un back there."

"Me?" asked Private, pointing to himself.

"Oui, nice accent," said Gobber.

"Thanks."

"This is Kowalski and Rico," introduced Skipper. "And the 'young one' is Private."

"Like in the army, no?" said Turk.

"Yeah, in the army."

"I'm Private First Class!" said Private indignantly.

"Let's just go in," suggested Kowalski.

"Uh huh," agreed Rico.

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><p><strong>Gobber: This is a short chapter...no?<strong>

**Me: Yeah, you're right. I'll try to make longer ones in the future, but I can't promise anything.**

**Turk: Hey! Who wants snowcones?**

**Me: Where in the world did you get snowcones?**

**Gobber: I think my snowcone making machine has arrived.**

**Me: Oh no. My parents are going to kill me when they see the mess your father made. You're cleaning it up.**

**Gobber: Why me?**

**Me: 'Cos I blame you.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Me: Sorry if the characters are a little OOC**

**Gobber: I don't blame you.**

**Turk: I do.**

**Me: *picks up baseball bat again***

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><p>"We'll access the database here, and file a message saying that turkeys are inedible this year because of a disease," said Skipper, laying down the plans. "Any questions?"<p>

"What type of disease is this?" asked a tall turkey.

"The type that is not real," replied Skipper.

The little mission control hut they were in suddenly shook. "Rico must have gotten his flippers on your weapons!" yelled Skipper, running out of the hut with the other turkeys following him.

Rico was having fun teaching. In fact, he was teaching the young privates how to use a bazooka. Boom! The young turkeys laughed with the pleasure of it all. The supervisors were trying to round up everybody but failing do so.

Skipper marched to his soldier. "Rico! Front and Center! Now!" he barked.

A very sheepish Rico obeyed. The penguin held his head down. Skipper glared at him, oblivious to all the staring. "This is insubordination, soldier!" the leader scolded once more. "Give them a cover up gift!"

Rico regurgitated a rocket launcher and handed it to the nearest turkey. "Orry," he said.

"That's better. Now, to your quarters."

"Yes, sir."

Skipper turned to the turkeys. "Our apologizes on that. I hope you'll accept our gift."

Turk walked over to him. "How did you train him?"

"Oh, Rico? He does not obey orders from anyone accept his commanding officer or if it is a dire situation. That, and the penguin will never disobey a direct order."

"Except when we switched him and Roger around," Kowalski said under his breath.

Skipper casually slapped him. He nodded to the turkeys. "Thanks for letting us visit, but we have to go now. We need to upgrade our security code cracker."

He led the rest of this troop to their car. Private waved at Gobber. "It was nice playing football with you!"

"But we played soccer!" returned Gobber.

Meanwhile, Kowalski was in a bad mood. "And I never got to see secret level 13," he mumbled.

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><p><strong>Kowalski: You're a mean author. Why didn't you let me see their secret levels?<strong>

**Me: I really need to stop you characters from coming in here.**

**Private: There is no such thing as soccer, Gobber. It's called football!**

**Gobber: Football is a whole different sport all together.**

**Private: Well it makes more sense that throwing a mishapen ball with your flippers.**

**Gobber: That's why I don't play it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is the last chapter. I want to thank all readers for sticking with me through this story. Enjoy!**

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><p>"Kowalski, tell me you've cracked this thing," said Skipper. "The humans will arrive at any moment."<p>

"Almost there, Skipper. Just a few more touches."

Private turned to his leader. "Skipper! Someone's coming!"

"Kowalski! It's now or never!"

Kowalski hit the send button. "Mission accomplished, sir."

"Go! Go! Go!"

The team made it up to the air vent just in time. The humans walked into the room. "I could have sworn I'd closed the lights."

"Nah, you're crazy."

"It's what happens when you work overtime, isn't it?"

The man switched off the lights, oblivious to the penguins now directly above him. "Men," said Skipper. "Failure is not an option in this unit."

The penguins watched dumbstruck as Chuck Charles continued. "And so, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "We hope you enjoy your turkey this fine Thanksgiving Day, as they were imported from overseas. A first class gourmet if you ask me. Back to you Bonnie."

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><p><strong>Private: So, was the mission a success or a fail?<strong>

**Kowalski: I have no idea.**

**Skipper: Everybody happy with shredding this mission folder and not placing it in the Skipper's log?**

**Rico: Yup!**

**Skipper: *waving flippers around* You didn't read anything. Nothing ever happened. Comprehende?**


End file.
